So Much For Her Happy Ending
by Word Mage
Summary: Hermione, sick of the stress brought on by the wizarding world, abandons all she knows and returns to the non magical world. But when a certain red head stumbles into her life, she may find that living in the muggle world isn't all that simple.
1. Morning Memories

_I sat in the Gryffindor stands at a Quidditch game, cheering for Harry. He would swerve suddenly, and my breath would catch in my throat. Even with the superb effort of the Gryffindor team, we were behind by 30 points. The fate of our team rested on Harry's shoulders. Despite the obvious stress that he was under, Harry would fly by the stand I was in every so often, and he would wink teasingly at me._

Suddenly, Gryffindor scored again. Ron leapt to his feet, nearly toppling me over in the process. I stood up, and shoved Ron aside.

"Watch it, you big oaf! Next time you jump up like that I'm going to be knocked right out of the stands!" He laughed, and then drew me close to him in a warm embrace.

"You looked chilly" I laughed and poked him in the stomach, swerving out of his grasp. 

"Hey! No fair…you know I'm ticklish…" he moved towards me, but before he could pounce, there was a massive uproar around us.

Harry had caught the snitch! Gryffindor fans jumped to their feet and the entire stand came alive, with students clapping and stomping and jumping all around us. I moved closer to Ron to avoid being knocked around by a pair of overly excited second- years. He leaned down and whispered something in my ear, but due to the celebration I could not hear him. I could only assume that it was something intimate, meant only for my ears, or he would simply have shouted it at me. Content, I snuggled against him and sighed softly, at home in his arms.

"Ron…oh Ron…" I tossed and turned murmuring his name until I was jarred out of my dreams of tall red heads by a violent beeping. With a groan I rolled over and turned off my alarm clock with a swipe of my hand.

I rolled out of bed and stumbled, only half awake, to my small bathroom. I splashed water on my face to wake myself up, but it was no use. I yawned, but the yawn turned to a yelp when I felt a pair of arms circle my waist. I look in the mirror and giggled.

"Ron…you scared me!" I began to object, but I grinned in spite of myself when he started nuzzling my neck.

"Calling my name in your sleep, eh?" he questioned suggestively, highlighting his intentions with a raise of an eyebrow.

"No...yes, I was, but that doesn't mean…" My protests were cut off when he spun me around and lowered his face to mine, his breath hot against my mouth.

_"He even has nice breath at this hour…Hermione, you certainly chose the right man…"_ I leaned up and pressed my mouth against his. When our lips touched, the world around us disappeared. I wanted to spend forever in his arms; there was no better feeling than….

Bolting straight up in my bed, my hair tangled and a layer of sweat covering my body. Slightly disturbed, I checked by bedroom for any signs of a red headed intruder. The other pillow in my bed was untouched, the case as pristine as if it had just been laid out, when in reality it had been on my bed for nearly four months- a testimony to my deep, dreamless nights.

Catching my breath, I tried to think reassuring thoughts as I tied the drawstring to my robe. The fact that it was only a dream was enough to settle my heart rate at best, but the fact that this was the first time I had thought of my past life in nearly five years was no help to ease my troubled mind.

_"It's too late to stop now, I suppose"_ I thought as I opened the cap on the toothpaste.

All through my later years at Hogwarts, I often daydreamed about what my life would have been like if I had never received the letter from Hogwarts, announcing my unique talents. My parents had been only too thrilled at the discovery of my gift, as was I, but I soon realized how confusing it could be to be a simple girl of eleven suddenly thrust into the magical life.

I was detached from my family for most of the year, only getting too see them briefly during the Christmas holidays, and then for two months during summer. Because I came from a non-magical background, I felt like the entire school was expecting me to fail, so I decided that I would prove them wrong. Being the academic head of every single class I took had not only a mental and physical toll on my mind and my body, but an emotional one as well.

I became obsessed with my grades, if I felt that I was slipping in any areas of my academic life, I would immediately cancel any and all social events, and study into the wee hours of the night, shunning any and all that tried to rescue me from my nearly obsessive nights of frenzied revision.

Sometime into my seventh year, I realized that I couldn't go on like that any more. Coming to only one conclusion, I vowed to myself that after I completed my magical schooling, I would totally excommunicate myself from the magical community. So, on the night before graduation, I wrote both Harry and Ron, my closest companions, two very long, very heartfelt, and very tearstained letters, informing them of my decision. I avoided them during the graduation ceremony, and just before I left, I handed each of them a letter, kissed them both, and walked away from the only real friends that I had ever had.

Shortly after that, I earned my high school diploma and then enrolled myself in pre- medical school, but found myself to be far too distracted, (the constant studying only brought back painful memories)so I dropped out. Shortly after that, I landed myself a job as a receptionist in a veterinary clinic, where I still work today.

During my attempt at medical school, I met a man named John Christopher Williamson. He was strikingly handsome, so of course I, then a naïve girl of only 18, accepted his invitation to dinner. I found the way he was reluctant to disclose any details of his life to be intriguing and mysterious, as well as a little odd. Life with Harry and Ron had not prepared me to be the one keeping up a conversation.

He asked to see me again, and I gladly accepted. After three months of dating him, I began to see why he had not been eager to share his life with me.

Handsome as he was, the man's life was boring. I stuck with him despite of his lack of excitement, and we remain together to this very day. We have a routine, developed and nurtured by four years of steady dating. At first I found comfort in the routine, but now, slightly more mature, I find that the comfort has turned to boredom. Predictability was certainly not something that my friendship with Harry and Ron had prepared me for.

I turned on the water for my shower, hoping to wash away all the thoughts of Harry, and certainly of Ron. But all I saw when I closed my eyes was the look of bewilderment and hurt that crossed across the two boy's faces as I turned my back and walked away from them forever.


	2. Workplace Drudgery

Ron woke up in a cold sweat. He had had dreams about Hermione before, in fact he dreamt about her nearly ever night, but that dream… _that _dream was EXPLOSIVE. Never in his life had he had such a realistic dream, Merlin, he could taste her kiss…he could still hear her breathy whisper as she told him that she loved him…he could still smell her skin as she moved with him, their passion rising together.

Roses. She smelled like roses.

He shook his head as if to shake out the fading memories of the dream. No use dreaming about Hermione now. She was gone, and he had to face it, she was never coming back

---

I sat in traffic, belting out a song on the radio. (The music was one thing that had hit me like a sack of bricks upon my return to the normal world) When traffic showed no sign of relenting, I dug in my purse and pulled out my day planner.

Unlike most muggles, er, unlike most of my peers, I had not managed to get my hands on an electronic planner (nor did I have the financial security to shell out hundreds of dollars), but I had no objections to using a normal leather- bound planner.

9.00-5.00: Work. ("Obviously….")  
5.00-7.00: Dinner with Mallory (Shoot. I had completely forgotten. Mallory was my best friend; I met her while I was earning my high school degree. She was back in school because she had to drop out due to her pregnancy, and she thought I was back in school also because of a pregnancy. I told her that I gave the baby up for adoption. I often imagine what would happen if I told her the truth. She would probably question my mental state, and then brush it off with a casual 'You're on drugs'. Typical Mallory.)  
8.00-11.00: Date with John (Crap. I completely forgot this one as well. Where was my head today? This one wouldn't be hard to get out of. I'd just say that I have bad cramps…he'll be too embarrassed to ask anymore….no! Hermione, SHAME on you! You shouldn't be trying to get out of a date with your own boyfri-)

My train of thought was cut off by a loud "HONNK". Traffic was moving once more, but I was not. "Crap" I murmured, and then once again resumed the long drive to the office.

---

I sat behind my receptionist's desk, filing papers and answering phone calls. I had only been at work for half an hour, and already I was waiting for the day to end. The next best alternative would have been death. Since last night's events, I had been unable to get Ron out of my head. We had never properly dated, but that had not stopped the gossips, not had it stopped our secret meetings in empty classrooms between our classes. My letter to him had been longer, more heartfelt, and definitely more tearstained than Harry's had been.

But no matter how long or how heartfelt any farewell letter of mine was, I was pretty sure that Ron still hadn't forgiven me.

---

Ron sat at the edge of his bed, head in his hands, breathing heavily. He took a few shaky breaths and looked around him room.

No Hermione.

Everything was as it should be…except it wasn't. Hermione was gone. He glanced briefly at the letter she had written him, four pages spread out on his side table, and fresh wounds reopened. He had read the blasted thing every night for a year, trying to find some hidden clue, trying to read between the lines, hell, he even tried Divination again; he was so desperate to figure out why she left him. This morning was the first time in three years that he had re- read the damned thing, although every word had been seared into his memory, assuring that he would never forget her, no matter how hard he tried.

As bruised and broken Hermione's departure had left him, it was nothing compared to the magnitude of Harry's rage. Too vivid in his mind were the numerous Howlers that he never sent, the burning of everything reminding him of Hermione, and the screaming fights with a bushy- haired girl who wasn't really there.

Harry claimed that he had torn his letter to shreds, but Ron knew that the corner of tattered parchment peeking out from under Harry's pillow was Hermione's farewell.

Ron walked over to his door, and hesitated before opening it. What if he was still dreaming? Another 'encounter' with Hermione would probably kill him- if not send him raving to St. Mungo's. Steadying himself, he opened his door.

Hermione was still gone.

---

At noon I breathed a sigh of relief. Lunch. A half hour away from the monotone of my job. Rising from my chair, something went 'crunch' under my foot.

A few pressed flower petals were sticking out from the edge of my boot.

'Damnit!' I shouted, causing some people in the waiting room to look at me like I was crazy. 'Er…sorry about that folks…just broke a heel!' I laughed shakily and picked up the crumpled flower.

Every day John sent me a flower at my workplace. He thought it was 'sweet', but for me it was a reminder of my life of monotony. With hot tears threatening to spill down my face, I crushed the flower in my hand and threw it into the garbage can. 'I'm going for lunch!' I shouted, and left the other receptionist, Grace, to fill in for me.

I drove home like a madwoman, and didn't bother to take the keys out of my car's ignition. I ran up the stairs and hurriedly unlocked the door to my flat, once this was accomplished; I dove for my bed, and let the tears fall.

Once I was finished with my little sob fest, I splashed cold water on my face. I am not a girl that looks pretty when she cries. I looked up, but it was not my bloated face that caught my attention. The drawer on my bed stand was open. Apprehensively, I walked towards it. I distinctly remembered it being closed when I left for work.

My breath caught in my throat when I looked into the drawer. There was my old photo album. It was labelled 'Magical Memories' and underneath the script was a picture of Harry and Ron kissing either one of my cheeks, and me giggling and pretending to be shocked. Very staged and very clichéd, but it brought on a fresh onslaught of tears nonetheless. This was a photo album, filled with seven years worth of memories.

I couldn't just put it away. If I did, I would just read it later, after hours of mental debating and many pints of ice cream. My poor figure didn't deserve that, so, hesitantly, I opened the photo album.

The first and second years were downright embarrassing, with all of the awkwardness of being thrust into a new school, and a magical school at that, and all of that awkwardness was captured in the magic of moving photos, with toothy smiles followed by shy blushing and downcast stares. Ah, young angst.

For the entire afternoon I sat like that, not moving until I had finished with the entire book. The third year brought on a revelation for me. It was in these pictures that Harry seemed to become more tormented, and Ron seemed to look at me with a fire in his eyes that I had never known was there. In the following years I witnessed my own transformation from a girl to a woman, and Harry and Ron's transformations from boys to men. At first they had been energetic youthful boys, but became more brooding as the years went by. Harry was definately the darker of the two, Ron never seemed to lose his enthusiasm for life.

I had never noticed this before, and now, my longing became very evident. Four years of suppressed emotions and suppressed memories came flooding back to me now, hitting me hard and showing no mercy.

I slammed the book shut and looked at the clock. My lunch break was over. Taking a few shaky breaths, I rose from my bed, smoothed my clothing and left, but not before reaching deep into the very bottom of my bedside table's smallest drawer. I felt for the hinge that released the false bottom, and opened it. I pulled out my wand, blew the dust off, and silently whispered a spell to clean my makeup streaked face.

The magic seemed alien to me, but I preformed the spell with ease, the ability of past years coming back to me in a rush of power. I pointed the wand at my lamp and was about to whisper 'Wingardium Leviosa', when I stopped myself. I had left this all behind for a reason. I placed the wand back into its hiding place, and closed the drawer. A part of me that had for so long been detached, hollow, seemed to return all at once, filling me from top to toe with happiness that I had not known for a very long time.

---

"Ooh…someone's got a herself a hot date tonight" Mallory squealed, seeing my flat in its state of disarray. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and my closet was empty. I had totally forgotten about my dinner with Mallory in my stress over my date with John. Again.

"Oh Mallory! I'm such a bad friend! I forgot all about our dinner…let me just change my top and we'll be off, alright?" I rushed around my apartment, trying to make it look presentable. Mallory sat on the bed, dropping her spare key on the nightstand.

"Hey…'Mione…What's this?" I peered around the corner at her. She was looking at my photo album, which I had forgotten to put away. It was open to the very last page, a picture of me, Ron, and Harry in our graduation garb. "Ooo these boys are fine 'Mione…how come I've never met them?" I rushed out of the closet and slammed it shut. Oddly enough, the pictures were not moving.

"That's nothing! Just a few…uh…childhood friends! Nothing at all" I must have been blushing furiously, I could feel my own face getting hot as I tried to come up with a logical excuse.

"Then why don't you ever talk about…Harry and Ron?" She had seen the caption underneath the picture. That meant that she had also seen the title- 'GRADUATION'. I was screwed.

"We, we had a, uh, we had a sort of a falling- out a few years ago. That's just a gag gift they gave me before the fight." I stood up, eager to change the topic. "Now, how about that dinner?"

She giggled. "Well, dinner sounds fantastic 'Mione, but I think you should put on a shirt first!" She pointed to my bra- clad chest, and then handed me a top from my bed. "Of course you could always skip dinner with me and just go see John. I'm sure that he wouldn't mind you dropping in on him, especially when you're dressed like that!" she grinned mischievously, and for a split second she looked like a Weasley twin. Except for the fact that she had curly blonde hair, and was female. I shook my head. That entire family was going to drive me insane.

**---**

**Someone tell me if my switching from 3rd person to 1st person is too difficult to follow. I'll italicize Ron's point of view if there are any complaints.**


	3. A Chance Encounter

Harry shook his head as he slowly sat up in bed, trying to shake the last remnants of a deep, dreamless sleep from his head. He had been able to ignore the pounding at the door to his flat, but the fact that there was now someone actually inside, moving around and possibly touching things was impossible to ignore.

Rising from his bed, he grabbed his wand and then sat silently, trying to perceive if the intruder was dangerous or not. He grinned when he heard the familiar voice.

"Harry? Harry, where the hell are you?" The bedroom door opened and Harry blinked stupidly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden stream of light. "Now don't tell me you were still asleep!" Ron exclaimed, covering the space from the door to the bed in long, lazy strides.

"I'm sorry mate, but I wasn't exactly expecting company at…one o'clock in the afternoon! Bloody hell, is that the time?" He looked at the clock as if trying to intimidate it into showing a much earlier time. "Er…Ron…" Harry started, turning his attention away from the clock and to his friend "Why are you here?"

Ron flushed at this question, and seemed reluctant to answer. "You see Harry…I had this dream, and it's been screwing with my head all day. I'm almost wishing that I had to work today"

Harry feigned horror "You! Ron Weasley! Wishing for work? This dream must have been a real kick in the arse, eh?" He grinned sloppily, still not totally awake. He sobered up right away when he saw the expression on his friend's face. "It was about her again, wasn't it?" Harry quickly shifted his pillow, making sure that no scraps of parchment were exposed.

Ron looked at Harry with what would have been a stoic expression if not for his eyes. His eyes were so full of pain and betrayal and the bitterness of abandonment that it almost hurt to look him in the eye.

"I need a drink" He said, his voice no more than a whisper. Harry rose and pulled on his pants, followed by a sweater. He said nothing, and disappeared into his bathroom. He walked out to his friend moments later, having been magically cleaned.

"Let's go get you that drink, mate"

Silently, the two men left the apartment.

---

I was sitting in Mallory's car, only half paying attention to the scenery. We had been driving around for twenty minutes, much longer than it should have taken to reach the restaurant.

"Mallory?" I asked suddenly "Where exactly are we going?" She looked over at me, her grin full of mischief.

"Oh…just some local dive. I figured that you needed something with a little less class. And honestly, I hate that restaurant that we always eat at. Oh look, we're here already." She pulled into a parking lot and I looked out the window. The place really was a dive. Posters of various beers plastering the door, and the shoddily boarded broken window fit the bill of the cliché bar where people go to drink their troubles away.

Which was exactly what I planned to do.

As we walked in, I looked around the bar, and immediately felt over-dressed. Under most circumstances, my crimson halter-top and knee-length black skirt would make me feel naked. But here, I found myself longing for Mallory's scandalous attire. When she shrugged off her long jacket, every man in the place eyed her hungrily. I sat down primly, trying to hide the fact that I was wearing ballet flats, and not a pair of towering stilettos.

Mallory turned to look at me. "Hermione! You're far too classy for this place!" she laughed, and stuck out her hand. I took it, and she pulled me up and dragged me to the bar. I took the opportunity to look around, having never been inside a place like this. When I was out with Mallory, I often felt like a nun from a cloister. A cloister in the Swiss Alps, with no outside contact at all. My thoughts of itchy black habits were interrupted by a sharp poke in the ribs.

"Any one in here catch your eye?" I looked at her, raising an eyebrow "Oh right, you're attached! Well, anyone in here look like my type?" I spun around in my seat and scanned the bar. Most of the men already had women hanging on their arms, and the others weren't even worth mentioning.

Then, the door opened and two very eligible bachelors walked into the bar.

I faced the bar, sitting rigidly on the stool. "No. There's no one worth looking at in here!" I chirped, trying to keep the panic from my voice. Mallory unceremoniously placed a bottle of beer in front of my face. I gripped it tightly with both hands, imagining it to be an anchor that prevented me from turning around.

"You have got to be kidding me. There has to be at least ONE decent looking man in this place!" She swivelled around before I could stop her.

"Your judgement has obviously been tainted by that odious prig- oops! - you insist upon dating…" She scanned the room, and my fear of her recognizing Ron and Harry from my photo album increased. My heart leapt to my throat and my pulse quickened as I attempted to distract her.

"Mall…I uh, I think that we should be going. I do have a, uh, a date tonight, you know!" She turned and looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted another head.

"Leave? You haven't even had one drink! As for your date- screw that! John needs a good kick in the pants once in a while to remind him that you are the master of the relationship. Now drink up and…hell-**lo**…what do we have here?"

I looked at the direction she was currently staring and my fears were confirmed. Man-Eater Mallory was currently eyeing up my two best friends. Former best friends. Perhaps I could sneak away without her noticing. Maybe I could convince her that she was drunk out of her mind and she was hallucinating. Maybe I could-

"Hermione! Are those the two gorgeous lads from your scrapbook?" It was too late. "Damn! If that isn't a coincidence! You have to go and talk to them! Patch things up! Maybe introduce me to that fit red head" I felt my insides churn and my face flushed with a sudden burst at anger at Mallory. How dare she try to sink her claws into Ron? Cooling off a little bit, I looked over at the counter. Her bottle was empty.

I sighed and opened my mouth to protest, and also to get her to quiet down, when she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me from my stool. "You can't go over there looking like that! Your shoes! Horrible, absolutely horrible!" she leaned over and began removing her own stilettos from her own feet. "Take mine. They're much sexier. 'Mione…are you…are you wearing a… a bra with that top?" she whispered, a little too loud for my tastes. Several men perked up at this and watched us intensely. I reddened under their stares.

Oblivious to them, Mallory pulled me into an awkward sort of embrace. I squawked when she reached under my shirt and began fumbling with the clasp of my bra.

"Mallory!" I hissed into her ear "Leave. My bra. Alone." My hissing went unnoticed as she managed to undo the clasp. Without any straps, my bra fell to the floor. I hurriedly kicked it under the bar stool and crossed my arms, my face as red as any Weasley's.

"Babe" she slurred (I was shocked at how quickly she had managed to get drunk) "Just trust me, 'kay?"

"Mallory!" I hissed once more, sounding rather like a snake "I am a 'C' cup! My boobs are **not** going to stay up on their own!"

"That's good, babe, that's good! That's the way boy like 'em…bouncy…" She stumbled back into the counter. "Now…go get 'em, babe…knock 'em dead, honey…" She looked at me and briefly made eye contact. Mallory was once an aspiring actress, before she got pregnant. Now I could see why. She was perfectly sober. She was trying to embarrass me into leaving her, to go and see the boys.

Her plan was working.

Afraid of what else she would do, I slipped on the stilettos and hobbled my way across the bar. I felt awkward at first. The shoes made me feel at least seven feet tall. I had never been a short girl, and I usually preferred flat shoes that kept me firmly on the ground at my height of five feet, eleven inches. Mallory was a short girl, and wore the tallest shoes possible. Her feet were also a good size and a half smaller than mine.

As more and more men turned to look at me, this tall, gangly thing making her way on shaky legs across the bar, I slowly gained confidence. I even uncrossed my arms, hoping to mesmerize Harry and Ron with my breasts and somehow make them forgive me. Or forget that I had ever existed and thing that I was just some chick in a backwoods bar.

All of my confidence disappeared as soon as I faced them. I noticed that they had both grown even more since I had last seen them. I was able to look Harry in the eye with the stilettos on, and Ron towered over me. I thought briefly of John, who would always have to look up to meet my gaze, with him being a full two inches shorter.

I had always been strangely drawn to tall men.

"H-Harry!" I sputtered "Ron!" I looked at them both with what I hoped was a cheery smile.

"You" Harry started, his tone harsh and unfriendly "What are you doing here?" He glared at me and my smile faltered.

"Hermione!" Ron looked up, tearing his eyes away from my chest "You…you look good. You've grown up." He glanced down at my chest once again and I cleared my throat. He looked at me sheepishly, knowing full well that he had been caught.

"Harry…I'm here because I want to talk to you boys! Well, I suppose that you're not really boys anymore, you've grown up as well, well, obviously, as you're both much taller, and you look older…oh what a stupid thing to say, of course you two are older! I'm older! So naturally you two would have aged the exact same as I have…" I realised that my speech was lacking a point. "So…er- what have to been up to?"

"What makes you think that you can just march up here, looking all fancy, and just act like nothing happened!" Harry shouted, clearly enraged "You expect to just waltz back into our lives like everything is fine? Like it's allll good between us? Well it's **not**, Hermione, so stop pretending like it is!"

His accusations did nothing other than anger me. "It's not entirely my fault! You never even** tried** to owl me! Don't you even start with that 'I didn't know where you were' crap, Hedwig's a bloody smart owl, she'd find me!"

"You said that you didn't want to be contacted!" Harry was holding so firmly to his glass that I was afraid it might burst.

"Since when did you ever do as you were told, Harry Potter!" I retorted.

Harry did not respond. He only glared at me, his face twisted into an ugly stare of hatred. He then raised his glass, and splashed it in my face.

Ron gaped, and then followed Harry out of the door, turning once to look apologetically at me.

---

"Well…that could have been…better…" A suddenly sober Mallory stated as we walked out of the bar. " Look 'Mione, I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted to help make things right between you three. I guess I was wrong. Please, just say you forgive me?"

"I forgive you" I said, without emotion. A sudden burst of cold reminded me of my current braless state. "Crap. Mallory, I left my bra in the bar. I'm going to run and get it. Start the car, okay?" I scurried away before she could make any move to stop me.

---

Ron followed Harry wordlessly. He did not even attempt to make Harry speak, unless he wanted his friend to lash out at him as well. A sudden movement caught his eye, and he turned around. Hermione was walking back into the bar.

"Harry- I uh, I think I left something in there. I'll be right back." Harry grunted a reply, knowing full well that his foolish friend had left nothing in the bar.

---

I grabbed my bra with ever- reddening cheeks, and walked out of the door with my head down, trying my best to ignore the guffaws coming from inside. In the parking lot, Mallory was sitting in her car, no doubt feeling rotten for something that was not even remotely her fault. Feeling guilt crash over me for placing the blame on her, I quickened my pace.

Until two strong arms grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into the shadows.

Too scared to even scream, I resisted only mildly against my captor. Images of rape and murder and dismemberment flashed through my mind until I saw the familiar face.

"Ron!" I cried, throwing my arms around him, pleased beyond words that he was not a harbinger of my imminent doom. "What are you doing here?"

He did not answer me. Instead, he crushed his lips to mine in a kiss that evoked all of the passion of our youth. The kisses we had shared in empty classrooms paled in comparison to this. This kiss was even better than make-up sex between myself and John.

In our kiss we confessed to each other all of our innermost thoughts and feelings. I could taste his hurt, his loneliness, and his disbelief that it really was Hermione Granger that he was kissing.

All too suddenly, he pulled away. "Nice to see you again, Hermione." He stated gruffly, and walked away.

I walked back to Mallory's car in a daze. Not even the steady dripping of Harry's drink on my shoulder from my hair could bring me down. I smiled softly and ran a finger over my lips, hoping and praying that that encounter in the shadows had not been a dream.

---

"Why do you do this to yourself, mate?" Harry asked when Ron slipped wordlessly into the car.

"Because, Harry, I still love her"

Harry shook his head. "That girl's going to be the death of you. Come on, I'll take you to a strip club somewhere. Help you get your mind onto other girls"

Ron looked out of the window, only mumbling his reply "Harry…I don't want strippers. I want Hermione…" He sighed, and touched his mouth, hoping, and praying that the kiss had not been a dream.

---

**Any & all errors will be corrected in the morning tomorrow- it is now four in the morning and I have stayed up all night writing this up and I am TIRED.**

** Enjoy, and gooood-night!**


End file.
